Art
Exhibitionism
Evan Anthony
William Tucker goes to some pains to explain the title he has given to the collection he has selected for the Hayward Gallery's The Condition of Sculpture exhibition, and if I read him correctly, he is using the word 'condition' to describe the state of health of that particular form of expression — or as he puts it: . the degree to which sculpture seems capable of enforcing its right to exist in our culture." Sculptors, you may have noticed, frequently write or speak about their craft in much the same way as do unions who would like to go along with, but can't quite accept the terms of the 'social contract' — they feel themselves to be very much the special case, being the art form for, which the world is least ready.
Tucker sticks his chin out even further as, either bitterly or pragmatically, he arrives at the premise: "The world can evidently do without sculpture: sculpture cannot do without the world." Evidently. But then faced with the exhibition at the Hayward, the question may easily arise: "What are the poor sculptors prepared to do about remedying the situation?" There are, I fear, very few works on view that one could or would care to take home to cuddle. A major problem is that, sadly, we do not all have the enormous floor space of the Hayward (not to mention the rooftop), and something will have to be done before the world is ready to appreciate that sand is not merely something dumped on the front lawn waiting to be turned into something — could one say? — a bit more -concrete.
It isn't that I am so hard to please, and while my imagination may not soar along the tangled lines followed by many of the contributors. there are a few projects I should be more than happy to house. Nigel Hall's 'Precinct II,' hanging precariously at a single point (or so it seems) is an arresting and beautiful piece. Should I be able to talk the children into putting away the trampoline, there might just be room for Loren Madsen's redwood block and cable 'Sloped Ring.' And having gone so far in supporting the efforts of the underdogs of the art world, I suppose Tim Scott's acrylic' block and steel 'Counterpoint XXI' should be squeezed in.
Perhaps the work at the Hayward could be more fairly assessed were they to have the benefit of the kind of retrospective afforded Kenneth Martin at the Tate. But then, could they fill the rooms with as brilliant a display of the development of so formidible an artist as Martin? This is one of the most elegant and fascinating exhibitions to be seen at the Tate in some time, and by no means a difficult 'specialist' show. The intelligence of the artist is evident alike in the cool mathematical order and logic of the screw mobiles and linear constructions and the 'chance and order' drawings and all have the added and somewhat old fashioned virtue of being beautiful.
Probably, the most amusing show in town is provided by the drawings at the Nicholas Treadwell Gallery in Chiltern Street. For a change, the wit is not left unsupported by skill, and while an eyebrow or two may be raised by some of the more graphic erotic fantasies, once you calm down you should notice that the drawing is first-rate. There are too many artists to mention by name, but if pushed, I think Gunter Gritzner's work could be one of those singled out for special commendation. Incidentally, while there, take a peep at the portraits of Treadwell, specially commissioned by him but stuck away in one of the offices. '
My suggestion to the Serpentine Gallery people is that they should switch the positions of Ken Watts and Nigel Rolfe. Perhaps if the office niche were filled with the slabs of clay, the powders and sand and assorted odds and ends supplied by Rolfe, they could roll about appreciating the originality of the assemblages, while Watts's solid brick paintings could breathe more easily and be shown to greater effect in the larger area. They deserve more room.
Previous page
